Is it too late now to say sorry?

Guilt.

It's a small word for a powerful emotion.

I've always had an apologetic personality. One boss once told me that if I ever apologised to him again he'd sack me - not that he could, but he made his point! Nonetheless, I'm the idiot who apologises to the person who bashed into me in the street. I even apologise for over-apologising. It's just part of what makes me me.

That said, most people with chronic illness also find that alongside their diagnosis comes a huge heap of steaming guilt: guilt at not doing something they'd said they would; guilt at letting people down; guilt at not doing as much for others as they used to do; guilt at having fun when they're "supposed to be sick." During my years with depression and now with my vitamin deficiency, I've added all of these types of guilt and a handful more to the already apologetic person I was.

As if it isn't hard enough suffering from depression, there's an extra voice in your brain that makes you feel even worse. And as if people who are physically limited need mental aggravation as well! There comes a time when you have to make a choice - and you aren't even aware that you're doing it sometimes - between making yourself feel worse by over-stretching yourself or feeling guilty for not doing something.

For a long time I chose the former: I would go everywhere, do everything, be everything to everyone. I ran myself into the ground. Last autumn, I ended up in hospital because of how much I was doing. Within the space of a few months, I'd upped my medicine intake from anti-depressants and anti-histamines to both of those plus anti-anxiety pills and sleeping pills. If you had shaken me, I'd have rattled. I didn't know if I was coming or going and I completed my existing commitments, but I was running on vapours.

That was what led me to the doctor in January and eventually got me the diagnosis I mentioned previously. I was told that the condition had been brought on by a physical or mental trauma - possibly a one-off, possibly over time...

Many people reading this will know that in February last year I lost my beloved Gran. I was raised by two fantastic parents and no one can replace them, but my paternal grandparents were the next best thing to having four parents! I never knew my maternal Gran and my maternal Grandpa was a little old man by the time I remember him. But my Gran & Grampa Johnston were just 50 when I was born and they were fun, full of life and they absolutely doted on my brother and I. Almost every family holiday I can remember was spent with my grandparents and we even went on holidays with them without our parents. They lived in the next street and I spent many weekends with my Gran, cooking, baking, watching old TV programs... If my parents ever wanted to find me, they'd start by phoning Gran! This is only a glimpse into our relationship, but needless to say I was as close to a grandmother as one can be.

While it would be lying to say her death was a shock, it was a surprise - I'd seen her

only days beforehand and she'd been happy and seemed as well as she'd been in recent years. It had been 5 months since her last hospital stay when we'd prepared for the worst. We spent our time visiting her letting her hear the kids' Scottish poems, celebrating that our oldest ("M1") had won the school Burns competition. Gran loved Rabbie Burns and she loved Scottish history - hearing her great-grandsons recite poetry in traditional Scots was a clear joy and she loved it. Kissing her goodbye that day, I'd never have expected what happened only days later.

It's hard to say exactly, but in hindsight I think that's when my clinical depression began to disappear as it was forced out by grief. I was treated for grief and my GPs were fantastic support. With over 18 months distance, I think Gran's last act may have been saving my mind.

Unfortunately, as I came out of the grief, I threw myself into more commitments than proved sensible and accidentally caused my recent condition. Hindsight is wonderful, isn't it? Something else to feel guilty about!

Which brings me back to my point: guilt can come from anywhere and be about anything. As a parent, I feel guilty for having Caesarean sections, for breastfeeding one baby and not the other, for working after one was born and for staying at home although they're both now at school. I feel guilty when I spoil them and I feel guilty that we can't spend much money on them! Then at home, I feel guilty that I don't do as much as I ought to, to "pitch in." Lately, the most guilty I feel is when I cancel plans - which is more often than I'd care to admit.

Yet my rational mind knows that this time last year I ran myself into the ground by not listening to my body. I know that stopping when I feel the early stages of pain and tiredness is the right thing to do to prevent history repeating. How do I do that without feeling overwhelmingly guilty for letting people down? And how do I stop myself from feeling guilty about all of the decisions I made in the past - with the best of reasons at the time!

My depression may be gone but these are the questions that plague my daily life. I think the short answer is that there is no answer. I just have to get over it. Which is easier said than done! So, in the words of a rather irritating Canadian pop singer, is it too late now to say sorry?